Five days ago I was working in the studio trying to get ready for a deadline that was quickly coming on in three days. It was afternoon, and I got a call from my daughter as I was talking to my client.
“ Can I call you right back? “
“Sure,” she said.
I went back to my phone call, and it was interrupted by my son in law, he was crying.
“ My house is on fire; I just got out alive. Our dog is dead. ”
“Oh my God,” I said, “I’m on my way.”
I thought, “my daughter does not know, she sounded fine when I just talked to her. ”
Her house is about 30 minutes from the central part of Houston where I live. That is without traffic. I told my intern, “ lock up, I got to go,” then as I walked out the door, I remembered the deadline. I said, “just keep working. You know what to do.” She stayed.
It was a good thing because when my daughter can’t get me on my cell, she calls my landline. Thank God my intern could pick up. Because now my daughter new and was trying to reach me. Later my daughter says, I don’t think I made much sense. Your intern was so calm when I was talking to her.
On the way, I tried to figure out the situation. My daughter must have been picking up my granddaughter at school it was before 3:00. What time was she dismissed? I wondered, why didn’t I pay closer attention. If she called me, then she was probably going to get her. I was thankful my granddaughter was not in the house. I was sure of that.
I had my headphones and called my daughter’s dads. Her father said, “ I don’t have anyone to take over the shop.” It sucks to be in business for yourself. I was not sure how bad things were, but if my son in law, “just got out alive” then it does not matter. “ Put a sign on the door saying family emergency, COME!” I said in a firmer voice than I thought I had. I hung up and called her stepdad. He and I are at that precarious place, just after a divorce, where we are trying to find our footing. But he has co-fathered my daughter for 18 years, he needed to know. Still absorbed in graduate school, he says, “I have a presentation to do at 3:30, let me know.” Frankly, I don’t know if I called him back. I vaguely remember calling someone as I roamed around after seeing everything saying, Oh, my God this is horrific. It is so bad. I have no words. Whatever transpired, step-dad was on his way. He did not do his presentation, but came and did everything he could to help. This is the first “God moment” I see in this horrific destruction. God brought about a way for us to bond together as a family, a way for my x to rally to his step-daughter and son in law.
How come everyone drives so slowly? I thought as I tried to rush past.
My phone rang, and it was my son in law and daughter.
Your daughter is here; she passed out, we are in an ambulance, she wants you, I told her you were coming.
“I won’t be long,” I said
“Mom I did this, I killed my dog, I did this.’
I still did not have the entire story, but what I knew, at that moment, is that my daughter was wailing in grief.
“I’m on my way; I’ll be there soon.”
I don’t know why we hung up. It was probably good we did, I don’t think I could have driven.
As I got closer, I found myself searching the skies for signs of smoke. The blue cloud-specked sky gave me hope that everyone was o.k. The closer I got the more I was relieved, until I entered the subdivision. My daughter’s house is about six houses from the corner. The street there was closed off. There were many fire trucks. I parked my van at a neighbors house asking a woman that I think was standing there in slippers and a pink bathrobe. I wondered for a moment why she would be in this outfit in the middle of the day. I asked her if it was ok to park there. I might have said something about it was my daughter. I didn’t even notice that the car that was parked haphazardly next to mine was my daughter’s.
Getting out of the car, I cursed myself that I decided to wear work clothes without pockets. I slung my purse over my head and shoved my things inside. This will do.
I ran down the street past the many firetrucks. The closer I got the more frightened I became. Fireman looked at me and stared, where is my daughter? It was my daughter’s house, Where is my daughter and son in law? I asked.
“In the ambulance” a young man replied.
Why was the ambulance so far away? I felt like I was running in slow motion.
I could see her in the windows looking out, I ran up to the back and wanted to bang on the door, it felt like I might, I tried to tap, and I saw a side door open.
A woman in black came out and grabbed me by the shoulders looked me in the eye and said, “You cannot go in there.”
In my mind, I’m screaming. “JUST WATCH ME! You can’t keep my daughter from me. Breath.” I hear myself saying.
“You can’t go in there upset.” She repeats.
“Your daughter fainted from high blood pressure. We are trying to stabilize her. You need to stay calm.”
That is better I think.
I promise her I will be calm,
Crawling in amongst my daughter’s head she repeats the words, “I did this, mom I did this. I killed my dog, and I ruined everything.” The remorse and wailing made me wish I could remove it. What parent would not? “You did not do this; it was an accident.” My daughter goes on about a candle, how she hates, them how she never lights them. Why did she do it?
I have had several do over moments in my life, or moments where I wish I could have erased the scene. Frankly, I’m not sure I could ever be one to experience the trauma of a loved one first hand. God forbid I should see the death of a loved one. I would be as Robin Williams in the Fisher King, and retreat to a make-believe place in the sewers. Reality would cease to exist. How I wondered, do I help my daughter go through this? How do I keep her nightmares away? I look at the attendant in the ambulance for these answers. She says, “You did not do this, it is not like you went and had a blow torch…”
“No, my mom does that.” My daughter jests.
The ambulance worker looks at me a bit worried.
“I’m a sculptor it is part of my job. Gee kid you are going to make her think we have a pyromaniac in the family.”
I have always marveled at my daughter in every circumstance. It does not matter what she is going through she is always recognizing the assistance of others. I hear thank you from her lips more than anything else. How does she do that? How does she not become so absorbed in herself or situation that she forgets? She reminds me so much of my mother.
They asked us to move the car. But my son in law could not do it because he had no pants. Working nights he was sleeping. He had just taken medicine to help him to sleep as he was sick, and when he woke he just had enough time to jump out the window wearing only his boxers. A small T-shirt was stretched across his chest, something someone must have given him. So, I exited the ambulance with two things in mind—get back to the ambulance as soon as possible and find my son some pants. I walked in a daze back to my daughter’s car hoping no one took the opportunity to steal something from it while it was parked with windows down. I also asked several total strangers if they had pants.
Back in the ambulance, they say my daughter can see the dog, what do they want to do with the dog. I ask her, and immediately realize, she is in no place to make decisions.
Breathing through smoke,
Pusche